Five Times Ryan Heard Kirsten Say
by Caroline
Summary: ...'Don't tell Sandy.' [Rysten]
1. Got a Light?

TITLE: Five Times Ryan Heard Kirsten Say, "Don't Tell Sandy"  
PART 1/5: Got a Light?  
SPOILERS: Series

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**01.** He exhaled slowly, a puff of smoke blowing past his lips and dissipating into the dewy Newport night. Just a few hours in this place and he still felt like he was in a dream. He glanced toward the driveway next door, where just hours before he'd met the patented "girl next door" -- Marissa Cooper. She was beautiful, but... probably more screwed up than Ryan could possibly imagine. And probably insanely spoiled.

He took another drag off his cigarette and studied it as he puffed out the smoke. He wasn't allowed to smoke near the house -- Kirsten's rules. He scoffed aloud. Kirsten Cohen. What a piece of work she seemed like. Probably twice as spoiled as Marissa -- the "queen of the manor" as Mr. Cohen had dubbed her. Ryan thought "Ice Queen" could have been more appropriate. Her smile was warm, but he could tell just from one look at her that the smile was a mere mask for all the ice beneath.

It was past midnight, far past; he figured the Cohens were probably fast asleep. How the hell would the "lovely" Kirsten know if he smoked out by the poolhouse? He turned to head up the driveway.

That mask of a smile greeted him just as he wheeled around, and Ryan looked down at the cigarette almost (not quite) embarrassed to be caught out here. He glanced up again, still seeing the Queen's faux (tight) smile as she surprised him completely by asking, "Got another?"

His brows raised. "Huh?"

"Another cigarette."

Unsure of her motives, but strangely captivated by her big, blue (ice blue) eyes, Ryan reached into his pocket and fished out another cigarette, presenting it to her almost gallantly. Kirsten smiled, this one genuine, and plucked it from his fingertips. "Light?" she asked next.

Maybe it was the real smile, maybe it was the eyes... maybe it was the way she held herself -- poised and sophisticated with just a hint of vixen hidden somewhere deep inside. Ryan felt an odd sensation then... some sort of pull toward her; in that moment he was more than willing to comply with any of her demands. He held out his own cigarette, just as he'd done with Marissa, and watched, captivated as Kirsten took a step forward and touched her cigarette to his.

Their eyes met and it was suddenly fifty times more electrifying than with Marissa. Maybe he'd been wrong about that whole "Ice Queen" thing. No way could a woman with that much fire in her stare have ice running through her veins. And then he had to know. "I thought you didn't allow--"

"I officially quit three years ago," she cut in, somehow knowing what he'd been wondering without the sentence needing to be finished.

"Oh." The smile Ryan exhaled was tentative... a little nervous as he noticed her gaze hadn't wavered from his while she took a drag. Her presence was doing strange things to his pulse. "And... _un_officially?"

Kirsten smirked for a moment and folded one arm across her stomach, propping the elbow of her other arm (the one that held the cigarette) on it. She blew the smoke off to the side. "_Un_officially... I have little setbacks every now and then." She looked down at the cigarette dangling between her fingers almost accusingly, made a face at it. "It really is a disgusting habit." She threw the cigarette to the driveway and crushed it almost savagely beneath her (probably insanely expensive) pumps. Then, she looked up at Ryan almost expectantly.

He grinned, unable to resist the urge to after seeing the nearly-flirtatious look in her eyes, and took one last drag off his own. "I'll quit if you do."

The queen of the manor laughed then, a rather melodious sound, and nodded approvingly. "Deal."

Together they walked, side-by-side up the driveway, shoulders knocking together every few seconds. Ryan stole glances at Kirsten each time, his heart beating a very odd rhythm. Once inside, they looked at each other a moment in the foyer, the house dark. Kirsten smiled a genuine smile one last time. "Sleep well."

"Yeah, you too." He allowed his eyes to flick over her briefly, hoping his look was hidden in the dark. He started to turn away and felt a hand on his arm, his bicep, turning him around.

"Ryan..."

He met her sparkling eyes for just another moment as she made him promise, "Don't tell Sandy."

Ryan quirked a half smile and nodded in agreement. "Secret's safe with me," he vowed.

Kirsten smiled gratefully and slid her hand down his arm, turning to head for the master bedroom. Ryan watched her go and decided that maybe he actually could get used to this place.

* * *

CONTINUED IN PART 2/5: Open Arms 


	2. Open Arms

TITLE: Five Times Ryan Heard Kirsten Say, "Don't Tell Sandy"  
PART 2/5: Open Arms  
SPOILERS: Series

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**02.** Ryan hated Valentine's Day. Just the sight of one red heart was enough to send him flying into a rage. It was nothing more than a profit-driven, pointless holiday. If there was no one to share it with, it was a sour reminder of loneliness. And... it was Kirsten's favorite day of the year.

That was the only reason Ryan agreed to tag along to this Valentine's Day singles' gala. If it were up to him, he'd be at home, brooding silently in the poolhouse... far away from his two ex-girlfriends, Marissa and Theresa. Marissa had been making puppy-dog eyes at him all night, pouting and probably wondering why he hadn't yet asked her to dance. Did he have to remind her of the 'Oliver incident' (as it was now known around the poolhouse)? And Theresa had been throwing him looks all night, too. He just wasn't in the mood to deal with either of them.

That was why he snuck outside, behind the huge country club, seeking refuge in the gardens. He leaned against the brick building and sighed, closing his eyes. Where the hell was a cigarette when he needed one? He gave them all up -- every single one -- all for Kirsten. And now he was desperate for one little ounce of nicotine.

"Hey, what're you doing out here?"

Speak of the devil. Or... as he looked up and met the blue eyes, he decided... angel. "Kirsten."

She gave him a darling smile, one that he liked to think was only for him, as she tilted her head and repeated her question. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just... taking a break."

"Ahh." Always tuned in to him, she nodded. "Hiding from the exes?"

He just barely smiled, one corner of his lips twitching. "Something like that, yeah. How about you?" His eyes flicked over her form, coccooned in a long red dress, and for a moment he was struck with the urge to tell her how beautiful she was. But instead, he said, "You didn't sneak out for a cigarette, did you?"

Kirsten rolled her lovely blue eyes and tilted her head at him again. "No. I quit when you did. I came out to--"

"Avoid Sandy?" he finished.

She sighed and leaned against the building next to him, their shoulders exchanging warmth. "Something like that, yeah," she echoed, rubbing one hand up and down her arm.

Ryan took note of this and reflexively removed his suit jacket. "Here," he offered, and draped it around her shoulders before she could protest.

"Thanks," she murmured, and together they leaned back against the building again, both staring straight ahead. Kirsten sighed again. "Sometimes I wonder why I like this holiday so much. Almost every year Sandy and I end up in a stupid fight about one thing or another."

"Then why _do_ you like it?" he felt compelled to ask, more for his own curiosity than anything else. How could anyone treasure this holiday above all others?

"I just... I like the_ idea _of it, I guess. A whole day devoted to showing the person you love how important they are to you, you know? Telling them what they mean to you. Not necessarily about getting them the most expensive gift to prove you care." She turned to look at Ryan. "Do you know what I mean?"

He nodded, meeting her eyes. "Yeah." Often times, he found it hard to break gaze with Kirsten Cohen. Over the past six months he'd discovered that the woman had an almost hypnotizing effect on him. He enjoyed the fact that he could read her with his eyes, and took comfort in the fact that she was the only one that could read him. A song floated out from the country club and Ryan, still never breaking gaze with Kirsten... the Queen of Hearts (of _his_ heart)... the queen of the Cohen manor... asked her, "Wanna dance?"

Kirsten looked stunned only for a split-second, then she blinked and it was gone. "Sure."

Ryan easily recognized the song playing inside -- Journey -- and he chuckled, just as Kirsten was stepping into his embrace. With a surprised smile, she looked up at him, obviously unused to seeing or hearing him laugh. Maybe he needed to do it more often. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. It's just... the song."

Kirsten raised her eyebrows. "'Open Arms?'"

"Yeah. Uh..." He pulled her close with a hand on the small of her back, grasping her hand in the other and holding it over his heart. "This stays just between us, but... Journey's one of my favorite bands."

"Really?" Her eyes glittered like stars under the night sky and for a moment Ryan was captivated.

"Yeah."

She chuckled and leaned a little closer, his suit jacket slipping from her shoulders as their cheeks touched. "Me too."

Ryan smiled and dared to press the object of his affection just a little closer... not wanting to overstep any boundaries but needing her just a little bit closer. To his surprise, she didn't mind... instead snuggling a little further into him. She was trembling, and Ryan couldn't be sure if it was the chilly February air, or something... else. "Kirsten..."

"Hmm?" She didn't move away from him, and... he suspected her eyes might be closed.

Words were never his strong suit, but he felt he had to force some tonight. Because she deserved to know. "You're beautiful."

He felt Kirsten tense just for a moment before she relaxed against him again, and replied softly, "Thank you." She hummed a chuckle as she added, "I think you're the first person to say that to me today."

"I'm sorry," he apologized instinctively and felt her shake her head against him while they continued to sway.

"Not your fault."

He knew that, and yet he felt awful that this lovely, caring woman was so underappreciated by everyone... sometimes including himself. If he had the guts to tell her _exactly_ what she meant to him, he would. He'd tell her that she was beautiful _every _day... that she was slowly but surely becoming everything to him. But instead, he settled on a simple, soft, "Happy Valentine's Day, Kirsten."

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Ryan bent to kiss Kirsten's cheek at the same time she pulled back to look at him, and their lips awkwardly connected. Both sets of eyes popped wide open and met in a panic, lips still chastely clinging. He should have pulled away at the first touch, but something held him in place. That same pull he felt six months before when they were at the bottom of the driveway smoking together. He was drawn to Kirsten, hopelessly devoted, and unfortunately unable to pull away. He counted the seconds until she'd slap him.

But that slap never came. Instead, he watched as Kirsten's eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks while her hands flew up to cup his face. Ryan instinctively shut his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, his hands on her waist pulling her closer. Her lips opened just slightly under his and he captured them again, stroked the fullness of her bottom lip with his tongue, and pulled away when she gasped into his mouth.

They stared at each other through half-lidded eyes, and Ryan couldn't help but note how her gaze drifted to his lips every few seconds. If that wasn't permission...

He leaned in to capture her lips again and heard her soft voice against his mouth.

"We, um..."

Ryan stopped mid-kiss and closed his eyes self-deprecatingly, leaning his forehead against Kirsten's. He opened his eyes when he felt her soft fingertips stroking his cheek; he met her gaze with their foreheads still touching feather-lightly as she whispered, "We probably shouldn't mention this to Sandy."

He nodded and took that as his cue to step back, his hands reluctantly leaving her waist. "Right." He glanced down at his feet, taking note of the fact that Kirsten was once again hugging herself for warmth. Reflexively, he bent to pick up his suit jacket and handed it to her. "Here."

She held up a hand to stop him, one of her tight, nervous smiles firmly in place. "That's okay, thank you." She brushed past him and Ryan turned to watch her go, keeping his eyes on her as she stopped in the doorway and turned back to him, eyes still slightly hooded with... desire? "And thanks for the dance."

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Sure."

Kirsten went back inside then and Ryan stared after her, thinking to himself that maybe Valentine's Day wasn't all that bad.

* * *

CONTINUED IN PART 3/5: His Salvation

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	3. His Salvation

TITLE: Five Times Ryan Heard Kirsten Say, "Don't Tell Sandy"  
PART 3/5: His Salvation  
SPOILERS: Series

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**03.** Ryan knew he should have been using the gloves, but he didn't care. He was angry, frustrated... needing something to numb his inner anguish. And for him, that something was pain. So he boxed bare-knuckled with his punching bag, splitting open the skin of his knuckles until they bled. Sweat was getting in his eyes, dripping from his hair, but he kept going, ignoring everyone and everything around him.

Until her. Until he caught in his peripheral vision the outline of her svelte figure in his doorway. So he turned, paused... and there she was, leaning against the door, just watching him. "What are you doing?" he demanded of her, voice gruff from lack of breath.

Kirsten nodded at his hands. "What are _you _doing? We got you those gloves for a reason."

He shook her off, went back to ignoring, and kept punching and jabbing at the bag. "Don't need 'em."

"Ryan, look at yourself."

He continued to ignore her. What did _she_ know of what he was going through? First all the stupid stuff with Trey, and then Johnny... now he was having that jerk Volchok to contend with yet again. "Go away, Kirsten."

He knew his words sounded harsh, but at the moment he didn't care. Kirsten herself was just another reminder of how screwed up his life was. Since they'd kissed accidentally on Valentine's Day two years before, things had changed between them. Tension spiked sky-high, leaving room for lots of unnecessary spats and, subsequently, stolen passionate kisses from time to time.

In just a couple years Kirsten had become everything Ryan wanted but could never have. Not with Sandy and Seth still around. So he stayed with Marissa, dealt with all of her stupid shit... then tried and failed for a little bit of normalcy with Sadie. Now he was back trying to save Marissa again. He really needed to stop.

As if reading his thoughts, Kirsten took a step forward and said softly, "Ryan, you have to stop this."

This time, he listened. He stopped punching and slumped, sweaty and exhausted, against the bag for a moment. When he felt Kirsten approach, he moved away. "I'm not the best company right now, Kirsten. Go find Sandy."

He knew that would sting. Kirsten and Sandy weren't on the best of terms lately with all of Sandy's dealings at the Newport Group, getting in over his head. Ryan wasn't even sure why he said it. And this was how their spats would always start when they were alone together. The ever-present tension would put him on edge; he'd say something biting, cutting, and Kirsten would shoot something right back.

Pretty soon they'd either be glaring at each other or yelling at each other and then... then, one of them would charge. Lips would collide, limbs would tangle. They'd fall either onto the nearest couch or bed or against the wall and kiss out all of their frustration. But kissing was as far as it had gone. Kissing was as far as he would _let _it go, though he had an inkling several times that it could've turned into so much more.

"I'm not playing this game with you today, Ryan," Kirsten told him lowly and took him by the wrists, leading him to the bathroom.

Ryan, confused by both the words and by what she was doing, numbly followed where she led, and didn't resist when she pushed at his shoulders and made him sit on the toilet seat. He watched her silently, looked up at her through his lashes and caught just a hint of a smile on her face as she went into the medicine cabinet... pulled out a bottle of peroxide and cotton swabs. Then, she knelt in front of him, between his legs... he gulped a little at the image.

From the crook of her eyebrow, she knew what was on his mind but didn't comment. Instead, she wet one of the cotton swabs with peroxide and told him, "This'll probably sting."

"Good," he replied darkly, and looked away when he felt her look up at him.

"I told you not even a month ago, when that whole thing with Jess was going on--"

"I can't keep saving everybody, yeah I know." He winced and hissed just a little when the peroxide touched his open wounds.

"Not just that, Ryan," she murmured, concentrating on what she was doing. "You can't blame yourself when something bad happens to somebody close to you. It's not your fault. What happened with Johnny was not your fault. Nothing that happened between Jess and Trey was your fault. Not even what happened with Trey and Marissa."

"It seems like it's been one problem after another since I got here. For you and Sandy, too."

"My problems with Sandy are not your fault, either, so don't even think that for a second."

"But if he wouldn't have brought me here--"

"Then you and I would never have met." She looked up and pinned him with her gaze... soft and seductive and a million other things all at once. "In a way, Ryan, you saved me too. You saved me from being the 'Ice Queen' of Newport, and... I don't even want to think what things would be like here without you."

"Kirsten--"

"I had to live without you for not one, but two full summers. The first time, Sandy and I barely spoke to each other. The second was--"

"Suriak," he finished.

"Yes. And that was its own version of hell."

"So... are you saying I should be concentrating on saving you?" he asked tentatively, watching her smile as she dried his hands.

"You already saved me. For now, I think you should concentrate on saving yourself. You don't need to keep playing the hero, the rescuer. You'll go insane if you keep doing that, Ryan." Those blue eyes met his again as she told him, "You have to find some sort of salvation before you self-destruct."

Ryan reached out and stroked Kirsten's cheek with the back of his finger, his eyes busy tracing her classic, angelic features. "I think I already found her," he whispered, gingerly tucking some blonde hair behind her ear, practically overjoyed that she was allowing such tender, intimate contact.

They leaned in simultaneously and their lips met halfway... though it was nothing like the kisses they had when they argued. This was soft, tentative... testing the boundaries that forever seemed to be blurring and changing between them. When Kirsten opened her lips under his, Ryan was assailed with memories of Valentine's Day and captured her lips again with his own, cupping her face. He felt her scoot closer, hands curling around his biceps as their tongues got reacquainted... and before long he had hauled her up onto his lap with both arms locked around her waist and they were kissing feverishly.

His hands slid up her back, under her shirt, and Kirsten breathed into him, "I need you."

"I'm right here," he assured her, pressing her as close as humanly possible while they continued to devour each other.

"No." She broke from the kiss and she rested her forehead against his, breathing labored as she met his eyes.

In her eyes Ryan saw every ounce of permission he was looking for, saw exactly what she needed, and plundered her lips with his own once again, locking her legs around his waist as he stood up with her, carrying her to his bed. He laid her down gently, crawled in after her... and for the first time let his hands wander her form. Clothing was shed quickly, each eager to release that two (three, really) years-worth of tension. Ryan kissed Kirsten with urgency, needing her, his only salvation, twice as much as she needed him.

"Ryan, please."

He nodded against her and twisted away to grab a condom... and that was when Kirsten's cell phone rang. Both of them groaning, Kirsten sat up with the sheet tucked under her arms and grabbed the offending silver object from her discarded jeans. She pulled it to her ear. "Hello." Then, her eyes widened. "Sandy. Yeah, I'm uh... I'm at the house. Are you on your way home? Yeah, I think we should talk too." She sighed and closed her eyes, chin dropping to her chest. Her blonde hair fell forward like a curtain around her face. "Yeah. Okay, I'll see you in a bit. Bye."

Ryan could only watch Kirsten's (bare) back since she wouldn't turn to look at him, as she put her phone away and started putting on her clothes. Ryan wanted to say something... anything... that would get her to stay, the carnal part of him wanting to finish what they started, but he knew the reason for her frenzy. "He's coming home," he stated, not really asking.

Kirsten turned only slightly over her shoulder while she dressed. "Yes."

He nodded though he knew she didn't see this action, and just continued silently watching her as she hurriedly resituated her clothing and slipped into her shoes. "Sandy can't know about this," she told him breathlessly, and then made a hasty retreat before he could say anything more.

Ryan flopped back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, inhaling deeply and exhaling a huge sigh. Yeah, this wouldn't increase the tension _at all_, he though wryly, and then turned over to bury his face in his pillow.

* * *

CONTINUED IN PART 4/5: Happy Accidents

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	4. Happy Accidents

TITLE: Five Times Ryan Heard Kirsten Say, "Don't Tell Sandy"  
PART 4/5: Happy Accidents

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**04.** Ryan finished scrubbing his short-cropped hair dry with his towel before securing it around his waist. He swiped a hand across the foggy mirror and took a good long look at himself. He expected he'd look different at this moment. Stressed... ashamed... guilty... disgusted. But no, instead he looked... happy. It was the oddest sensation.

It had been an accident. Falling off the roof, first of all, with Taylor... and then, what happened after he was released from the hospital. Sandy'd had to go to work, as did Seth. So Ryan and Kirsten dropped Taylor off at Summer's house before heading home. Ryan had intended to get a little more rest, but not long after he had entered the poolhouse, Kirsten came in behind him. "I didn't think you would wake up," she had confessed from behind him.

He had slowly turned to look at her. "What?"

She stepped toward him swiftly, reached for his hands, gave them a tight squeeze as if to reassure herself that he was really there, really alive. "I didn't think you would wake up." That time, her voice had been clogged with unshed tears. "You have no idea how worried I was, Ryan."

"I'm sorry." He hadn't known what else to say.

Kirsten had shaken her head. "This made me realize I can't lose you. Ever."

"Kirsten..."

"Ryan, what you mean to me is--" She'd shaken her head again, face crumpling while she struggled for speech. Finally, she sighed out tearfully, "_Do _you have any idea what you mean to me?"

"Yeah," he'd nodded, and meant it. It was written clearly across her face. "I do. Almost as much as you mean to me." He had been dangerously close to telling her he'd been in love with her for four years...

"Ryan," she'd sobbed, and then she was in his arms. Ryan couldn't remember if he had pulled her close or if she'd flung herself at him. It didn't matter. She had been in his arms, tight against him, sobbing into his neck.

He'd always been distraught around a crying woman. He had never known what to do... whether to hand them a kleenex and let them work it out on their own, or pat their back and give them the cliched, trite response of, "It'll be okay."

With Kirsten, it was instinctual. He knew what to do. He held her tight, buried his face in her hair and stroked his hands over her back, making shushing noises to calm her down as if she were a small child waking from a nightmare. He continually reassured her in a whisper, "I'm here. I'm right here."

"Don't leave me," she had begged tearfully, while clinging to him almost desperately. "I need you, you can't ever leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere," he had assured her repeatedly, pressing errant kisses to her hair, her cheeks, her jawline, while whispering against her, "I need you, too."

And then it had just... happened. He had been kissing away the tears on her cheeks, she'd turned her head up to him, and their lips had connected, like so many times before. Only that time, it had been so much different. Memories of what had almost transpired just months before came screaming back to both of them. Passion surged, desire took over, and they found themselves once more entangled in his bed.

It had all happened so fast. Before Ryan had known what was really happening, their bodies had joined... they'd moved together, pushed each other over that edge into glorious nothingness. He only vaguely remembered calling out her name and confessing his love for her just before everything had gone black.

Now he was looking at himself in the mirror, expecting to see some kind of guilt over what they'd done... but there was nothing. Just a sparkle in his sleepy blue eyes, and a feeling of overwhelming happiness. Kirsten... his angel, his queen, his salvation... had been just _his_ for one brief, shining moment.

He sighed and glanced down at the towel around his waist, making sure it was secure, before he opened the bathroom door and emerged, stopping in his tracks immediately. There sat Kirsten, back turned to him, on his bed. She was coccooned in a fluffy white robe with damp curls cascading halfway down her back, obviously having just showered herself. She turned over her shoulder, having heard the door open, and smiled briefly. "Hey."

"Hey." His eyes flicked over her, knowing all-too-well now what she looked like underneath her robe.

Ryan was pleased to note that Kirsten's eyes were busy tracing over him as well. He smirked halfway and raked a hand through his short hair. "Uh..."

"Ryan, let's not even attempt to chalk this up to some bogus excuse, like stress or vulnerability or whatever."

He shook his head. "No. We both know it wasn't either of those things."

Kirsten nodded once and stood up. "Right." She took a few steps toward him, playing with her own fingers in a way that was so uniquely Kirsten. "We both wanted it, we needed each other, so..." She sighed and threw her hands up in the air briefly. "There ya have it."

"Yeah." He watched as she came closer, never tearing his eyes from hers until she had stepped right up to him.

Her head tilted in that 'Kirsten' way he so adored as her large blue eyes searched him. "Did you mean what you said?"

It took Ryan a split-second to decipher what she was talking about before he nodded reflexively. "Yes." He loved her, of course he meant it.

She laid a hand on his bare chest and Ryan's heart jumped into his throat at the touch. She took one more step into him and smiled when he instinctively put his hands on her waist. "Because Ryan, I wouldn't hold it against you if it was something that just... came out at the height of--"

He cupped her face with one hand and kissed her before she could finish the sentence. Kirsten gasped against his lips and he captured hers over and over again... passionately, hungrily. When he'd stolen all her breath, he broke away and rested his forehead on hers, breathing against her lips for the second time, "I love you."

It was his turn to gasp then as Kirsten gripped his towel and smiled at him almost seductively. "Show me again."

Ryan didn't need to be told twice. He kissed down her neck as he untied the sash of her robe, sliding it off her shoulders to plant tender kisses on her bare skin. "Kirsten..." he breathed into the hollow of her shoulder, "We didn't use a--"

"I know," she nodded against him. "We don't need to, it's fine."

"You're sure?" He pushed the robe off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then backed her toward the bed.

"I'm sure." She yanked the towel away from him just before they fell onto the bed together, and Ryan proceeded to (slowly) show her just how much she meant to him.

His lips slid down her body and as she gasped and writhed beneath him, he heard her breathe, "Don't tell Sandy."

Ryan grinned and laid his chin on her stomach briefly. "Don't tell him I'm in love with you, or don't tell him about _this_?" He pulled the sheets over them both and crawled over her.

Kirsten gave him a beautiful smile -- she loved him too, he could tell without her saying a word -- and cupped the back of his neck to bring him down to her lips. "Both," she murmured, and kissed him again.

Ryan smiled back and pulled her close, more than willing to keep this secret.

* * *

CONTINUED IN PART 5/5: Baby Steps 


	5. Baby Steps

TITLE: Five Times Ryan Heard Kirsten Say, "Don't Tell Sandy"  
PART 5/5: Baby Steps

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**05.** "She's beautiful."

"She really is."

"She's got gorgeous eyes."

"She's so... Aryan."

Three heads turned, three pairs of eyebrows furrowed at Seth Cohen, who shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets. "What? She is." He gestured to the newborn cradled in Kirsten's arms. "Blue eyes, beginnings of blonde hair, NO sign whatsoever of impending bushy eyebrows..." He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "Where's the Jew-blood, Mom? Come on."

Kirsten rolled her eyes. "Seth..."

"Don't worry, son." Sandy Cohen clapped the back of Seth's neck, giving him a little shake, which Seth immediately winced at. "The Cohen part of her'll come out soon enough." He grinned at his wife. "She'll be learnin' to schmear before she takes her first steps, right honey?"

Kirsten tilted her head and smiled, fighting another eye roll, while Ryan watched this whole interaction from Kirsten's bedside with his arms folded across his chest.

"Of course, Sandy," she replied.

Seth sighed, accepting of his father's response, and nodded slowly, backing for the door. "Alright, I'm gonna go call Summer and let her know everything's okay."

Sandy pulled out his own cell phone. "And I'm gonna give Julie a call and make sure she knows we're not skippin' out on her wedding day." On his way out, he pointed sternly at Ryan. "You watch her."

Kirsten rolled her eyes once again. "I'm not made of glass, Sandy."

Instead of responding verbally, Sandy just exaggeratedly blew a kiss, grinned widely and headed out the door. Ryan and Kirsten smiled at his exit before turning to smile at each other. Their eyes simultaneously drifted down to the tiny bundle in Kirsten's arms.

"She _is _beautiful, Kirsten."

"Thank you."

"Did you name her yet?" Ryan glanced at the queen-size bed Kirsten was lounging in, wondering whether or not he could sidle up to her.

Kirsten smiled, recognizing the look on his face, and patted the space beside her as permission. When they connected from hip to shoulder, she turned to him and replied, "Sophie."

Ryan nodded slowly. "After... Sandy's mom, right?"

"Mm-hmm." She leaned against Ryan, fixing the baby's blanket.

Ryan took that as permission to slip his arm around the woman he so adored, and he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Sophie, huh?"

Kirsten nodded. "Sophie Dawn."

"Dawn?"

Blue met blue as Kirsten nodded once more. "After your mother."

For a long moment they just stared at each other, held a silent conversation with their eyes. Ryan thought it had maybe been five minutes before the silence was broken. And when it did, he was the one to break it with a hushed, "How long have you known?" He reached out to touch the plush pink blanket, gaze never wavering from Kirsten's.

"Awhile. At least since my second trimester if not longer."

Ryan stared down at the baby, part of him shocked though a rather large part of him had oddly been expecting it. Sophie's blue eyes were not Kirsten's, nor were they Sandy's -- they were his own. The nose and mouth were all Kirsten, but... the eyes. "The eyes give it all away, I guess, don't they?"

"Yeah," Kirsten murmured, tucking the pink blanket more snugly around her daughter.

"Why didn't you..."

Ryan trailed off and felt Kirsten turn her eyes up to him. He met her gaze, trying to get his point across. Theresa had told him a story about Kirsten long ago, getting unexpectedly pregnant, and what had happened as a result. He couldn't bear to finish the thought for fear it would trigger some traumatic latent memory.

But Kirsten understood. She could read him, she always could. "I wasn't sure for a long time. And anyways, going through it once was bad enough. Twice..." She looked down at Sophie and shook her head, voice growing soft. "I couldn't have handled it."

"I'm sorry."

Kirsten beamed at him and pecked him gently on the corner of his lips, whispering, "I love you" and cupping his cheek when she pulled away. "And I really wish you'd stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault."

"It's... my nature to, I guess. And, well..." He nodded down at the baby. "It's a little bit my fault."

"No, Ryan." Her eyes went back to Sophie and she rocked her gently in her arms. "It was both of us. _She _is both of us."

"But Sandy--"

"Doesn't know," she finished. "And don't tell him."

"I don't know that I feel comfortable with--"

Kirsten kissed him gently, discretely, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I just mean, I don't want _you _telling him. I will tell him in my own time. About everything."

"Everything?"

"Mm-hmm." She leaned against him a little more.

Feeling a strange Seth-like need to inject a little light into the impending serious situation, Ryan lifted his arm from Kirsten's shoulders, gave a half-smirk, and asked, "Even the smoking on the driveway?"

He felt Kirsten's smirk before he craned his neck down and saw it. She leaned in for another kiss, this one lingering, and whispered, "Baby steps."

Ryan nodded, repeating her thoughtfully. "Baby steps, yeah." He looked down at the beautiful bundle in the pink blanket and one corner of his lips twitched. "Ironic."

* * *

FIN 


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